


Any Door That Opens

by anaer



Series: The Trials of Youth [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaer/pseuds/anaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bart and Jaime try to get a little privacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Door That Opens

**Author's Note:**

> This was written at around 2 a.m. and born out of my desperate desire for Bart/Jaime. I think it’s a winner.

“Alright.  Coast is clear,” Bart announced, zipping to a standstill in the doorway.  The front door creaked a little suspiciously, flopping further open until the singed front slammed against the wall.  Jaime winced, almost positive that the door wasn’t supposed to open that wide.  

“You sure this is a good—” 

“Idea?  Course it is!  Wally won’t mind if we borrow his place for a bit.  It’s not like he’s using it!  He’s off in Star City.  Or Central.  Or Gotham.  Maybe at school, I really don’t know. And his girlfriend’s dead, so don’t have to worry about her.” 

“Won’t mind?!  We blew up the front door!” Jaime protested, gesturing at the way the door was now hanging half off its hinges. 

“Noooo, _you_ blew up the front door.  And the door’s still perfectly intact! But, hey, it’s not like you knew that ‘open’ meant ‘blow up the door’; you learn something new every day!  It’s weird, though, you sure you don’t have a lock picking setting?”

“Clearly, no.”

“Oh, well.”  Bart grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and pulled him inside.  Jaime barely had time to grab the door and close it before he was halfway across the room and landing with his back on the couch and a lap full of speedster.  He really hoped the front door stayed closed.  It looked like it was about to collapse into a pile of splinters. 

“Look, I’m really not sure we should be—”

“Doing this here?  Relax!  How do you say relax in Spanish? I should learn more Spanish, then we could speak to each other in Spanish, and it’d be like our own secret language, only lots of other people speak it so it wouldn’t be that secret, I guess, even around the others because I’m pretty sure Nightwing and Robin speak Spanish and Superboy speaks everything and Miss Martian can translate with her powers, anyway, so that’s kind of useless, but you should definitely still teach me Spanish.  And I told you:  Wally won’t mind.  And he’s out, anyway!  He won’t even know we were here.  It’ll take me, like, two seconds to fix the door.  And bye-bye Mount Justice, so we can’t do anything there, and Grandpa Jay interrupted us when we tried it in my room at home, and your mom is really loud and scary and I don’t understand half the things she asked me, but I was feeling the mode, and then Gramps was giving you the funny eye last time, so you know what they say, third time’s the charm, or more like…fifth or sixth time, really, but whose counting?  We’re here, we’re alone, my cousin won’t be back for _hours_ , let’s enjoy the moment, I say.”

“Yeah, but—mmph!”  Jaime once more found himself cut off by his overly pushy boyfriend, but this time by the future boy’s lips against his own.  And then one of Bart’s hands magically found its way down Jaime’s pants, and the Hispanic teen’s protests died in his mind. 

But life was nothing if not spiteful, because that was the same instant that the door slammed open (and there were definitely huge splinters falling from it, that was not his imagination), and a gust of wind blew past before doubling back and stopping at the couch to reveal one Wally West, the red-haired man staring down at the two teens with incomprehension on his face.

“…What are you doing here, brat?  And with your boyfriend, I’m guessing, from the way your hand’s down his pants.  And…how’d you get _inside_?”  He glanced back and seemed to notice the state of the door.  A horrified look formed on his face before the older speedster turned to glare at the two of them.

Jaime suddenly felt very self-conscious, and his face began heating up.  Bart detached himself from Jaime’s lips, and grinned up at his cousin. 

“Heeeey, Wally, I just wanted to stop by and visit my favourite cousin once removed, and introduce you to Blue, but you were out, and we _kind_ _of_ had an accident because I couldn’t remember where you put your spare key, and then I remembered that you didn’t have a spare key or at least didn’t show me where it was probably because you didn’t want me getting in your house but we were already here, so I was like, we might as well go inside, it shouldn’t take you too long to get back, so I asked Blue here to pick the lock, only I don’t think the scarab comes on a non-destructive setting because ‘picking the lock’ kind of turned into ‘blowing up the door’, but we got in, so we came inside to wait, but then got distracted, but then you showed up, so hi!  Chicken Whizees?” 

And then Bart did the strangest thing of all and produced about three bags of Chicken Whizees from under his shirt, holding them up to Wally as an offering of peace.  Where he kept them, Jaime was sure he would never find out, but the Blue Beetle was positive that those Chicken Whizees were his, and not Bart’s to give to his cousin. 

At this rate, he would never eat another bag of his favourite snack again.  Damn speedsters. 

Wally frowned down at the two of them for a second, his eyes narrowed in contemplation.  After a second, the bags of tasty treats were snatched out of Bart’s hand.

“So, let me get this straight,” the college student began, “You came to my place to get some privacy while I was out because the mountain—which, let’s be real, was the only good place to get some hanky—was destroyed and you knew I’d be out, only you accidentally broke my front door, and now I came home earlier than you expected—thank god—because I left stuff, and now you’re trying to bribe me with Chicken Whizees so I don’t tell Uncle B because he’s insanely overprotective, does not approve of your boyfriend, and superhero death fights are overrated.”

Jaime was amazed.  Wally spoke fluent Bart.  He’d never seen anyone understand his boyfriend like that before.  Maybe it was a speedster thing.  Or a Flash thing.

“You’ve…always been my favourite cousin once removed?” Bart offered, his grin faltering a little. 

“…Right,” Wally replied flatly.  “Look:  no sex on the couch.  If you do it, use a condom and the guest bedroom, it’s there for a reason.  And then I don’t accidentally run in on you _naked_ or with your _hand down your boyfriend’s pants_.”  And Jaime suddenly realised that, yes, Bart’s hand _was_ still down his pants.  Awkward.  “And, I guess, it’d probably be completely irresponsible if I didn’t at least say it, so:  try and keep it to hand jobs.  You guys are way too young to be doing anything else—although, I guess, I was around your age when I did, but that is completely beside the point because Barry will kill me if he finds out I didn’t stop you guys.  Actually, you know what,” the redhead sped away and came back, tossing something at them that Jaime realised with horror was a pack of condoms.  Bart caught them with his free hand, and they disappeared to that magical place under his shirt.  Jaime realised that he was the only one even remotely perturbed by this situation.  “Here.  At least neither of you can get pregnant.  Have fun.” 

Wally turned to leave, then turned back to address Bart.  “You know, Uncle B thinks _he’s_ taking advantage of _you_ , but that’s clearly not the case.”  And then, “And you owe me a new door.”  And then the redhead was gone again.

Bart turned back to Jaime.  “See?  Told you he wouldn’t mind.”

**End.**


End file.
